


Seduction 101

by screamingsongbird16



Category: Joker Game (Anime)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-09
Updated: 2017-12-11
Packaged: 2018-08-30 00:37:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8511964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/screamingsongbird16/pseuds/screamingsongbird16
Summary: It wasn't just women our spies learned how to seduce.  They learned how to turn on men as well.  And who better to practice on than their fellow trainees?





	1. Chapter 1

            “Seducing a woman is one thing.  As you know by now, it is both a challenge, and a game.  But seducing a man.  That is a whole different animal,” declared the teacher they’d been instructed to call Jigaro Sensei.  “You have been instructed as to how sex works between two men already, yes?”

            There were nods all around.  Some trainees, Miyoshi noticed, as he fought back a smirk, were bright red and blushing.  In his less than humble opinion, they should have been removed from the class and given no marks.  They had spent months learning to control their every impulse and reaction.  Far too many of their peers were throwing those lessons out the window now, in favor of acting prudish and Victorian.  It was an insult to Lt. Colonel Yuuki’s teachings. 

            A quick glance at those sitting nearby showed Miyoshi that his crowd was not among those lesser students.  Kaminaga looked amused, which they all knew was his default setting.  Tazaki and Amari both looked rather genial, if slightly bored, as though they were politely listening to someone speak about the weather.  Fukumoto wore his usual poker face.  And Odagiri, as usual, remained stoic.  Miyoshi approved.  A scowl nearly marred his own features, as his gaze fell on his group’s two unwelcome hanger ons.  Hourai and Megami.  Still somehow around, despite their incompetence.  Neither was even bothering to hide his embarrassment or distaste over what was clearly going to be asked of them next.  Banishing those unworthy two from his mind, Miyoshi moved his eyes to the newest two members of the group he’d put together.  Hatano and Jitsui, the two youngest trainees.  Two of the most promising ones there, despite their small stature and obvious youth.  As expected, both their reactions were within parameters Miyoshi found acceptable.  Jitsui was looking politely interested, while Hatano looked like his boredom had just been seasoned with a hint of amusement.

            “Good,” Jigaro Sensei said, in response to their nods.  “I won’t have to waste my time telling you where to stick it then.”

            Miyoshi nearly smirked again, not just at their teacher’s crudeness, but at the reactions of the others.

            “Sensei,” spoke up Hourai.  “Surely we’re not going to be expected to . . . try to seduce men.”

            “I don’t presume to tell you what you’ll be expected to do as spies,” Jigaro Sensei sniffed.  “But I do teach you as your Lt. Colonel instructs me to.  He seems to believe you should know how to seduce men.  So I am going to teach you how to seduce men.”

            “But we won’t have to practice, will we?” asked Megami, fiddling with his glasses, as he always did whenever he was nervous.  He still hadn’t figured out how to curtail that nervous tick.  Miyoshi wondered yet again, why was that waste of space still here?

            “How do you expect to become good at it if you do not practice, Glasses-kun?” asked Jigaro Sensei.

            “But – it’s not . . . I don’t –  I don’t like men like that!” protested Megami.

            “Whether you like them like that or not is immaterial,” said Jigaro.  “What matters is if you can manipulate them into liking you.  And that you can put on a reasonable show of being interested in them.  Though that is very rarely a problem.  Arousal is less about preferences, and more about primal instincts.  That is what you will be practicing.”

            “Sound interesting,” spoke up Kaminaga.  “How’s this going to go?”

            “Like so,” said Jigaro.  “You’ll pair off.  Or rather, I’ll pair you off.  Otherwise you’ll just match yourselves with your best buddies here, and have it too easy.  Then you’ll take it in turns –”

            “You don’t actually expect us to screw each other right here in the class, do you?” demanded Hourai.  Stupid Hourai.  Exactly how he’d thought that was even on the table was beyond Miyoshi’s ken.

            Jigaro gave him a stern look.  “No.  And stop pretending you would be so against it if I did.  I’ve seen the lust filled looks you keep casting at the two little boys.  They’re too young for you.”

            “Sensei.  It’s actually that he’s too _old_ for us,” called out Hatano cheekily.  Luckily for him, Jigaro, like most their instructors, was amused rather than insulted by his brashness, and simply gave him a wink.

            “It’s wrong to want to coerce children into having sex with you,” Jigaro told Hourai sternly.

            “I don’t – I don’t want – I can’t stand them!  Those two are –”

            “Sweet faced and very tempting, I know.  But it’s still wrong,” Jigaro said.  “But no one will be screwing, as you so poetically put it, in this classroom.  At least not during this class session.  What you sneak off to do after hours is your own business.  As long as it is consensual, and with those of legal age.  But as I was saying, I’ll pair you off.  You’ll not be paired with either of the two young ones, Pedo-kun.”

            Hourai spluttered comedically.  Even Miyoshi couldn’t hide his smirk this time.  Well, he could have.  But he saw no reason to.  Sensei was clearly treating Hourai this way to get reactions.

            “Then you’ll take it in turns.  One of you will be the seducer.  The other, the seduced.  The seducer will experiment.  Explore your partner and discover what works.  Touch.  Taste.  Kiss.  Your goal is to arouse them.  And do you know the best way to tell if you have succeeded?  I’ll give you a hint.  It’s not necessarily about what’s happening in their pants.”

            Jitsui raised his hand.

            “You there, Angel-kun.”

            “By their eyes,” Jitsui answered.  “Pupil dilation is a sign of arousal that cannot be suppressed by ordinary measures.”

            “Correct.  Gold star,” Jigaro Sensei said.  “That is how you will know if you have succeeded.  By the darkness in their eyes.  Because here is the catch.  The seduced will be resisting.  And I know for many of you, that will be difficult, looking at all the fine specimens of manhood assembled here.  But you must do your best not to respond.  Make it a challenge for your partner.  Make him work hard for it.  Because your Lt. Colonel wishes to make sure you can withstand seduction attempts as well as execute them.  Are there any questions?”

            Kaminaga raised his hand.  “I assume there are boundaries we shouldn’t cross?”

            “Oh yes.  I nearly forgot,” Jigaro said.  “All important clothes stay on.  Ties, waistcoats, and suit jackets may be removed.  Shirts, belts, and of course pants, may not.”

            “What about shoes?” inquired Tazaki.

            “Shoes you may take off.  Socks too.  In addition, you may go no further than your partner allows.  You may touch over clothes.  You may even reach under clothes, if the seduced allows.  But if he says stop, you stop.  No exceptions.  Anymore questions?  . . . None?  Very well then.  Demon-kun, you’re with Glasses-kun.  Angel-kun, with Adonis-kun.”  Jigaro pointed at each man as he spoke.  And it turned out Miyoshi was Adonis-kun.

            Miyoshi stood up and walked toward the double desk Jitsui had been sharing with Hatano, as Hatano got up to cross over to Megami.

            “Nice knowing ya,” Hatano commented to Miyoshi as they crossed paths.

            “Worry about yourself.  Come onto Megami too hard and Hourai will get jealous,” Miyoshi teased.  He felt a sense of accomplishment at the shocked but overjoyed look that flashed through Hatano’s eyes, and patted the shorter boy on the shoulder as Hatano started cackling. 

            Jitsui waited patiently while Miyoshi made his way over.  And he stood politely as Miyoshi approached.  Miyoshi gave Jitsui his trademarked smirk, modeled after Lt. Colonel Yuuki’s own.  Jitsui returned it with his patented innocent smile.  Then both young men regarded each other for several seconds, and both knew the other was thinking the exact same thing: This was going to be fun.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Notes:  Tonight is not a good night, so I’m seeking refuge in Joker Game hell.  Join me!

 

Pairings, in case you’re interested are:

 

Miyoshi vs Jitsui 

Tazaki vs Amari

Kaminaga vs Fukumoto

Odagiri vs Hourai

Hatano vs Megami

 

Each pair’s getting their own chapter. Not necessarily in the order I listed them.  Or maybe in that order.  I haven’t decided yet.

 

Hourai and Megami are OCs, by the way.  Other trainees who didn’t make the final cut.  And Miyoshi knew early on they wouldn’t make the cut.  He didn’t appreciate them hanging around his chosen circle, acting like they belonged there.  (And this isn’t another torture Hatano fic from me, FYI.  Even though I do love writing those.  Rather, this time, Hatano’s going to wreak a little havoc.)

 

Next chapter is going to be Narcissist vs Sadist.  Duking it out in a battle of lusts.  Be honest now, who wouldn’t want to see that?


	2. Miyoshi Seduces Jitsui

            It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of good looks cannot measure up to two men in possession of good looks.  Or, to put it simply, and to stop misquoting Jane Austen, two gorgeous men are better than one.

            Jitsui’s smile was sweet, and almost coquettish, while Miyoshi’s was smooth and warm, like syrup trickling down your throat.  They were a good match for each other.  Both beautiful.  Both irresistible.  No one else would have as good a chance at seducing the other.

            “So,” said Jitsui, looking at Miyoshi through his lashes.

            “So,” said Miyoshi, stepping closer, into Jitsui’s personal space.  “Do you come here often?”

            “That old line?” Jitsui said in a mocking, but somehow still sultry voice.

            “Hm,” said Miyoshi.  Then he reached for Jitsui.  His hands settled on Jitsui’s hips, and he waited, just a moment to make sure Jitsui wouldn’t raise a protest over this move.  But Jitsui didn’t seem to mind.  His smirk became a bit more pronounced, but he didn’t tense one bit.  So Miyoshi increased the pressure of his touch, and lifted Jitsui by his hips.  He took a step forward, and set Jitsui on the edge of his desk, just far enough on it that he was in no danger of falling forward, but not so far back that his position was stable.  Then Miyoshi slid his hands between Jitsui’s knees, and slowly spread his legs wide open.

            “My, you’re forward,” said Jitsui, looking amused.

            “I don’t hear you protesting,” returned Miyoshi.

            Jitsui gave a cute little shrug.  “With our faces, succeeding in seducing someone is nearly a foregone conclusion for both of us.  I might as well enjoy myself this exercise.  But, that said, you’d best bring your A game.  I won’t be satisfied with less, just because you’re beautiful.”

            Miyoshi stepped in between Jitsui’s open legs, and dropped his hands to the smaller boy’s knees.  He began rubbing them, slowly, sensuously, letting his hands drift a bit lower, so they were stroking the insides of Jitsui’s legs.  “You’ll get my A game,” he promised.  He gave Jitsui one of his top shelf smiles, the kind he usually reserved for his most difficult conquests.  “But you had better not leave any marks on my perfect skin.”

            The mood was broken by a loud clicking sound behind Miyoshi.  He saw undisguised amusement flash over Jitsui’s face, and couldn’t resist turning to see what was going on.  What he saw was indeed amusing.  Megami was staggering away from his partner.  Hatano was seated on a nearby desk, in a similar position to Jitsui’s.  Though he was balanced far better, despite having one leg raised above his head.  It only took Miyoshi a second to realize what had happened.  Megami had tried copying Miyoshi’s tactics.  Or at least to some extent.  Then he’d done something to Hatano that Hatano had not liked.  Which was stupid, considering how skittish they all knew Hatano was about physical touch.  It was no surprise Hatano had kicked him under his chin so hard his teeth clicked together. 

            Miyoshi smirked and turned back to Jitsui.  “Jealous?  Or turned on?”

            “Neither.  Just amused,” said Jitsui.

            “You’re not worried he’ll manage to ensnare Hatano’s affections?” asked Miyoshi.

            Jitsui giggled and didn’t bother answering further.  So Miyoshi decided to let that topic drop.  He resumed rubbing the insides of Jitsui’s legs, working them forward until they’d reached Jitsui’s inner thighs. 

            “I’m aware, you know,” said Miyoshi, stepping closer, “that I’m at a bit of a disadvantage here.  See, I’ve caught on to your sadistic streak.”

            “That’s good, since I haven’t exactly been hiding it,” said Jitsui.

            “I don’t plan on debasing myself to seduce you, for the record,” said Miyoshi.  “You’ll have to satisfy your appetite for pain and humiliation from someone other than me.”

            “I suppose this is where I should start getting jealous then,” said Jitsui.  “Of Hatano.”

            “Yes.  I can guess his strategy just as well as you, even with my back to him,” said Miyoshi.  “But just so we’re clear, the trick he’s using on Megami won’t work for you on me.  Make no mistake, I will seduce you.  But I won’t fall into that pitfall myself.”

            Jitsui just smiled.  A smile full of challenge.  One Miyoshi accepted whole heartedly.  Jitsui might not be his usual type, but he was exceedingly beautiful.  And it would be a definite challenge to arouse him without falling so far into lust himself that his body betrayed him with the signs of it.  But Miyoshi was confident in his own abilities, both to turn any man or woman on, and to suppress his own carnal reactions.  So when he bent down to catch Jitsui’s lips in a kiss, it was only after pulling down a curtain in his mind, doing his best to separate himself from his feelings.

            Jitsui’s lips were soft and plump, just like Miyoshi knew they’d be.  His skin was soft too.  Maybe in even better condition than Miyoshi’s own, though Miyoshi hated to admit it.  But he could feel it, as his own nose pressed Jitsui’s smaller one to the side as he deepened the kiss, and as his finger tips burrowed under Jitsui’s shirt and waistcoat, to press into the small of his back.  Jitsui’s skin really was soft.  And his body felt nice.  Pliant.  Like he was in good condition, but still wouldn’t be too much of a challenge to dominate.  Miyoshi knew that was an illusion.  But he couldn’t help but wonder how many people had succumbed to that illusion.  He was sure Jitsui was no virgin.  He was even positive that Jitsui had been with men before.  His confidence in this exercise was pretty much proof of it.  And Miyoshi actually admired him for it.  Because it was nice to meet another man so secure in his sexuality.  But Miyoshi had the feeling there was a chink in Jitsui’s confidence.  One he intended to exploit now, for this.

            “You are really beautiful, you know,” said Miyoshi, kneading his fingers into the small of Jitsui’s back.  “How many of the men you’ve been with have told you that?”

            “All of them,” answered Jitsui.

            “And how many of them have also compared you to a woman?” Miyoshi asked innocently.  He felt Jitsui tense up in his grasp.  Smiling, Miyoshi continued kneading with his fingers, trying to work the tension out of the muscles beneath them.

            “Probably no more than have compared you to a woman,” returned Jitsui, only half a beat too late to seem natural.

            “Hm,” said Miyoshi.  It seemed that he’d been right.  This was a chink he could exploit.  “You seem like the type who enjoys topping, am I right?”  He let his hands sink lower, still kneading Jitsui’s skin, which abruptly grew softer, and much squishier.

            Rather than answer, Jitsui put a hand on Miyoshi’s chest and applied firm pressure.  Not pushing him back, just sending a message.  “That’s as far as you go, Miyoshi,” he said softly, but with his own authority.  Authority Miyoshi would respect.  “No lower, unless you’ve bought me dinner.  Or at least a couple drinks.”

            Miyoshi continued his ministrations, but verbally acknowledged the boundary Jitsui had just set.  “I wouldn’t have gone further anyway.  I’d like to still be friends at the end of this exercise.”

            “Friends.  Is that what we are?” asked Jitsui.

            “You doubt my sincerity?” asked Miyoshi.

            “Of course I doubt your sincerity.  You’re training to be a spy.”

            “Hm.  True,” said Miyoshi.  “But so are you.  And I think we’ll be friends at the end of it.”  But he was getting off track.  Jitsui had done a nice job of distracting him from the topic he’d been leading them toward.  Miyoshi needed to get back to it.  “But not friends with benefits.  I don’t think either of us is interested in that.  At least not with each other.”

            “Hm,” Jitsui said, noncommittally.  Probably more in regards to the idea of them becoming friends at all.  Not because he was unsure of whether or not he and Miyoshi would be friends with benefits.”

            “Though, if we did become that kind of friend,” Miyoshi continued, “I think you’d find me more amenable than your previous friends of that nature.”

            He waited for Jitsui to ask why, or how so.  Instead, Jistui turned his face away so he wasn’t looking at Miyoshi.  Smart boy. 

            Miyoshi moved one hand back to the small of Jitsui’s back, since placing a hand there afforded a sense of authority over someone.  His other hand, he moved to Jitsui’s cheek, turning the fair boy’s face back so he was looking at him.

            “I’m more flexible when it comes to what positions we take,” said Miyoshi.  “Do you find that exciting?”

            “Not particularly,” said Jitsui.

            “Well then tell me this: how many of your old friends topped you before you got a chance on top?”

            Jitsui stiffened.  Resistant to the idea.  Not happy about even remembering.  Good.

            Miyoshi stroked his cheek.  “Did you enjoy it like that, Jitsui?  Did you like being the girl in the relationship?”

            Jitsui tried to look away again, his expression going completely blank, like a porcelain doll’s.  Miyoshi pulled him closer and kissed him again.  Then he leaned Jitsui back on the desk, forcing him down beneath his weight.  And he knew that Jitsui couldn’t help but remember now.  All the times he’d bottomed, as Miyoshi was sure he had, in his first encounters with men.

            Miyoshi had put together a pretty clear picture of Jitsui’s past in his mind.  Lonely as a child.  He hadn’t fit in.  He read to avoid others.  Until he grew too beautiful for the others around him to ignore, sometime after puberty set in.  Any boy attracted to him had most likely been bigger, and drawn in by Jitsui’s feminine features.  Jitsui had almost definitely bottomed his first few times, though the experience had probably never failed to frustrate him.  Eventually, he’d turned to tables and taken his place on top, probably figuring out that he had a tendency toward sadism along the way.  But most sadists had at least a little tendency toward masochism as well.  Miyoshi was glad to see Jitsui was no exception.  Because his memories of all that unsatisfying sex where he’d been treated like a girl, and another man had taken all the pleasure in their encounter, slaking his own lust in Jitsui’s body, had caused Jitsui’s body to respond now the way Miyoshi intended for him to.  He felt Jitsui’s breathing grow a little deeper, and knew Jitsui was struggling to keep it under control.  And Miyoshi felt a slight movement against his thigh, which had gotten pressed up against Jitsui’s groin as he laid down on top of him. 

            Miyoshi pulled back, raising himself up above Jitsui with his arms on either side of the smaller boy.  Jitsui stared up at him, his pupils dilated wide, and with just a little flush to his cheeks.   

            And that was enough.  Miyoshi climbed off of Jitsui, and stepped back, giving him space.  He genuinely did like Jitsui.  And this had simply been an exercise.  Nothing personal.  He wouldn’t toy with someone he wanted as a friend.  At least not like this. 

            Jitsui sat up, probably because he didn’t want to remain on his back, like he was submitting.  His breathing had evened out almost immediately.  But his pupils were still dilated when he looked at Miyoshi.

            Miyoshi stared back at him, evenly, waiting to see how Jitsui would react.  He didn’t think Jitsui would think this an offense worthy of retribution.  And he didn’t think he’d just made himself an enemy.  He actually held Jitsui’s levelheadedness in quite high esteem.  But he needed to make sure.  So he watched carefully for any sign of smoldering anger or hidden enmity.

            But Jitsui lived up to Miyoshi’s expectations.  No rancor or signs of hidden malice showed in his expression.  He actually looked slightly impressed with Miyoshi.  Something Miyoshi couldn’t help but feel a bit of pride at.

            “You win this round,” said Jitsui.

            “Only because I’m me,” said Miyoshi graciously.  Or at least graciously for him.  “I think there’s probably only one other man in this room who could have succeeded with you.”

            “Give me three minutes,” said Jitsui, his smile disturbingly pleasant.  “Then we go for round two.”

 

 

* * *

 

Notes:  This has been a week of staying up too late and stress writing, lol.  But now it’s the weekend, so I can do what I want. :P

 

When I wrote and posted the last chapter, it was less than a day after first getting the idea for this fic, so I hadn’t taken much time to brainstorm out my strategies for writing it.  I’ve made a few adjustments to my original plans, since then.  Mainly in that I’m splitting up the chapters, so each chapter contains only one seduction/seduction attempt.  So here we saw Miyoshi seducing Jitsui.  In another chapter (probably the final one) you’ll see Jitsui seducing Miyoshi.  All pairings mentioned last chapter will still be the same.  But there will only be one chapter with each of the OCs in, because no one really likes them, and they’re mainly here so we can watch them fail miserably then wallow in shame and humiliation.  Speaking of which, up next is Hatano verus Megami. 


	3. Hatano Verus Megami

            Megami scowled at Hatano as the boy stopped in front of his desk.  Out of all the people to get paired with.  He couldn’t stand Hatano or Jitsui.  As far as he was concerned, they were nothing more than bratty children, running around pretending to be spies.  Yet somehow they’d wormed their way into Miyoshi’s good graces.  Their group’s de facto leader had brought the brats into their circle.  And ever since then, they’d been subtly, well, not so subtly, edging Megami and Hourai out.

            “I’m no happier about this than you are,” stated Hatano petulantly.  His lower lip jutted out slightly, making him look even younger.  And Megami fought down the urge to shake his head.  He was supposed to seduce him?  And be seduced by him?  Well, at least resisting him wouldn’t be hard, at all.  Megami wasn’t attracted to him in the slightest.  He adjusted his glasses and glowered at the boy in front of him.

            Hatano continued to look petulant.  “So, who goes first?  You want to try to seduce me first?  Or should I try to seduce you first?”

            “Ha.  Like you could,” sneered Megami.

            Hatano scowled and opened his mouth, no doubt to spout out something trite and childish.  But instead he seemed to change his mind.  He sighed and closed his mouth instead, and seemed to think for a moment before speaking.  Which was a first.  “Look . . . I don’t like this anymore than you.  And I think it won’t be news to you that I don’t like you.  I know you don’t like me either, so as far as I’m concerned, we’re even there.  But neither of us want to fail this.  My . . . test scores haven’t been as good lately, and I need to bring them back up.  So . . . if you’re willing to put aside our grievances just for this exercise, I’ll do the same.  And . . . and I’ll follow your lead.  I mean, this is awkward enough already right?  I don’t know, I mean I know what I’m doing but I’ve never . . . this isn’t . . .”

            The kid was flustered, Megami saw with a smirk.  Hatano was nervous.  Maybe even scared.  The brat was probably a virgin, Megami thought.  With that personality of his, it was no surprise.  But seeing him like this now . . . well, this was something Megami could work with.

            “Alright,” Megami said.  “We’ll put aside our differences for this.  And I’ll be going first.”

            “Okay.”  Hatano took a deep breath and shifted from foot to foot slightly.  “Okay.”

            Megami stood up and walked around the desk to stand on the same side as Hatano.  Then realized that he had no idea how to start.  It should be easy, he knew.  Virgins, in their inexperience, had very low standards.  Things that would do nothing for an experienced woman had virgins blushing and creaming in their panties.  But Hatano was a boy, not a woman.  Megami wasn’t sure where to start.

            So he glanced around.  Whenever you weren’t sure what to do, he’d learned it was always best to see what Miyoshi was doing.  Especially so this time, because Miyoshi was with the other little hellion.  As Megami watched, Miyoshi stepped in and put his hands on Jitsui’s hips, then lifted the petite boy.  He set him down so he was sitting at the edge of the desk.  Then he moved his hands to Jitsui’s knees and forced them apart.  Then Miyoshi stepped in, putting his body between Jitsui’s legs.  But that was about all Megami could see.  The angle he was at wasn’t great for viewing this.  Miyoshi’s back was to Megami so he couldn’t see what Miyoshi was doing to Jitsui now.  But Megami thought he’d seen enough.

            He turned back toward Hatano and grabbed him by the hips.  Hatano stiffened at his touch, instantly, but Megami didn’t really notice.  He lifted the boy, just like he’d seen Miyoshi do to Jitsui, and sat Hatano down at the edge of the desk.  Then he jerked Hatano’s knees apart and stepped between them, so he was nearly flush against Hatano, inside his personal space.  Now what?  What was the best way to arouse the kid now?

            He was about to flounder.  Megami knew it.  In a moment, he’d lose the tension he’s built up between Hatano and himself, and be back at square one.  Or worse.  Hatano might revert to scornful mode, making this infinitely harder.  Megami needed to do something to him now.  So he did the first thing he could think of.  He reached forward and grabbed Hatano’s crotch. 

            Then he heard a click.  A loud click.  And he wondered why he was staring at the ceiling.  He staggered, stunned.  And when he looked down at Hatano, he saw an odd sight.  Hatano was still sitting on the edge of the desk, but one of his legs was raised almost vertically.  His foot was high over his head.  He kicked me! Megami realized.  That click he’d heard had been his own teeth snapping together.  And now he felt an ache underneath his jaw.

            “You little brat!”

            “You dirty pervert!  Don’t just come in and grab me by the crotch!  Geez, it’s no wonder you’re a virgin,” Hatano sneered.

            “I’m not a virgin!”

            “You are definitely a virgin.”

            “If either of us is a virgin, it’s definitely you!”

            “That sounds exactly like the sort of claim a virgin would make,” sniped Hatano.

            “It does not!”

            “How would you know unless you were one, hm?” Hatano tilted his head with a sarcastic leer.

            “I don’t – I’m not – you – aurgh!”

            Suddenly, Hatano’s personality did a 180.  He lowered his leg, which he’d held with his foot above his head all during that conversation, back into a normal seated position so he didn’t look like some circus freak anymore.  Then he shrunk back a little and looked away.

            “I’m . . . sorry.  I didn’t . . . I guess I went back on what I said, about putting aside our problems.  You just . . . you took me by surprise, and I wasn’t expecting it, and it was weird, so I reacted.  I’m sorry,” said Hatano.  “I really . . . don’t know what I’m doing right now.”

            “Yeah, well . . . I guess what I did wasn’t very . . . smooth,” admitted Megami, mollified by Hatano’s apology.  “I’ll . . . try a different approach.”

            “Yeah,” said Hatano.  “That will probably be good.”  He looked away.  Then his cheeks colored slightly.  “If . . . if it’s helpful to you, you can try pretending I’m  . . . you know . . . a girl.  Start off with what usually works for you.  Then go from there.”

            “Yeah,” Megami agreed.  “Yeah, I think I’ll do that.”

            Hatano kept his eyes averted as Megami thought up a new plan of action.  Thinking of Hatano as a girl . . . wouldn’t be too terribly hard.  Not as easy as it would have been with the other brat.  But not nearly as hard as it would have been for someone like Fukumoto or Amari, with their strong faces and masculine features.  Not to mentions their large, well muscled bodies.  Hatano had delicate, almost bird-like features.  And slender, delicate limbs.  Looking at him from the right way, he could be a girl.  At least Megami could kind of see him as one.  Which made it easier to treat him as he would have treated him if he really was a girl.

            Romance, was something most of the ladies Megami knew went in for.  Light touches and kisses, before moving on to anything heavier.  It helped set the mood.  So that’s what Megami decided to try for now. 

            He put his hands on Hatano’s shoulders, and waited patiently until Hatano looked at him..  When Hatano did, Megami got a slight start.  That look on Hatano’s face . . . there was vulnerability there.  Not a lot.  Not as much as he’d surely have if this was an act.  But his uncertainty was unmistakable.  And actually rather attractive. 

            Megami ran one of his hands up Hatano’s neck, then to his face, tracing Hatano’s features with his thumb, as Hatano stared up at him, seeming frozen.  His other hand, he lowered to Hatano’s hip.  He meant to leave it there.  But somehow he found it skimming along the top of Hatano’s thigh, back down to his knee.  Hatano had closed his legs again, and was sitting with his knees together.  Much more gently this time, with oh so much more finesse, Megami slid his hand between Hatano’s knees and slowly spread them.  He didn’t think Hatano had even realized what he’d done, until he stepped between his legs, because suddenly, Hatano started, and his eyes widened like he was scared.

            “Relax,” Megami said.  He let the hand he still had on Hatano’s face skim over so he could take the boy’s chin between his fingertips.  “Just go with it.”

            Hatano just stared at Megami, but didn’t fight him off or protest, as Megami stepped closer in.  He stopped when their bodies were flush against each other, personal space a distant memory.  And this close, Megami couldn’t help but notice that Hatano actually smelled really good.  Sort of warm and a little bit sweet.  Not really like a woman.  Not that it was a really manly smell either.  But he did smell good.  Megami was slowly losing his reservations about this arrangement.  This exercise wouldn’t be as hard as he thought after all.  Just pretend Hatano was a woman, do what he’d normally do to make a woman wet, and get his passing grade.  The idea of getting Hatano all hot and bothered, then leaving him that way, and not finishing things off was actually quite appealing.  The little brat deserved it, after all his antics since training started.  If he was too mentally frazzled to complete this exercise and get a passing score, and it got him thrown out, so much the better.  Megami was ready for things to go back to the way they used to be in their little group.

            So with that in mind, he leaned down and kissed Hatano.  The boy gasped into their kiss, which only served to excite Megami more.  He released Hatano’s chin and then used both hands to pull the boy closer to him.  Closer.  Soon he was squeezing the boy’s tiny body against his own, but it still wasn’t close enough to satisfy him.  Thankfully, Megami had a solution.  He pushed Hatano down onto his back, on the desk, and laid on top of him.  It meant breaking the kiss.  Because he instinctively lined himself up so his groin was directly over Hatano’s so he could grind against him.  That put Hatano’s face against his chest.  Megami could feel his warm breath through his shirt, and imagined all the fun they could have in this position.  He could take off his tie and shove it into Hatano’s mouth to gag him.  Or he could simply hug the boy to his chest, not letting him turn his face away, so simply breathing was a struggle, and he’d inhale Megami’s scent with every breath.  How long, he wondered, would it take Hatano to go limp and docile?

            It took him several moments to realize that he was rocking his body against Hatano’s, unconsciously.  And when he did, he also realized just how tight his groin had gotten.  He’d gotten hard, pressing himself up against the boy’s body and planning ways to humiliate him.  Well, he couldn’t exactly say the ideas weren’t turning him on.

            Then, suddenly, he felt Hatano’s hands pressing against his chest.  At first he thought it was Hatano struggling.  Then he realized that the boy wasn’t.  He was simply pushing Megami.  Lifting him up with impossible strength, despite Megami clinging to him as hard as he could, trying to smother him against his chest.

            “Jigaro Sensei?  Can you come check my work now please?” Hatano called out, suddenly sounding perfectly in control.  “I think I’ve successfully completed my assignment.”

            What?

            “No,” Megami growled, “I’m the one seducing you!”

            “Which is exactly why you’re rutting up against me and panting like a dog,” said Hatano dryly.

            Suddenly Jigaro Sensei was there, grabbing a handful of Megami’s hair and peering into his eyes.  “Yes.  Demon-kun is right.  Glasses-kun is aroused.  Nice work, Demon-kun.”  With that, Jigaro let go.

            “Thank you, Sensei.”

            “What the hell?” demanded Megami.  “I was the one seducing you!  We decided I was going first!”

            “Which was part of my strategy to get inside your guard,” said Hatano.  “Now kindly stop dry humping me.”  With that he did some kind of twisting, rolling, kick combination, that sent Megami flying off him.  Megami had to stagger to keep from falling.  The sudden loss of that small warm body beneath him was enough to make him weak kneed all on its own.  Megami gasped, releasing in his surprise, and felt his face flaming as the sticky warmth spread through his underpants.

            Even worse, he could see Hatano knew what he’d just done.  The look on Hatano’s smug little face clearly showed that much. 

            “Wow, Megami.  Really.  Just, wow.”

            “Fuck you!”

            “I’m gonna pass.  You really do absolutely nothing for me.”  Hatano was sitting upright on the desk now, legs crossed almost primly as he smirked at Megami.  And Megami had never hated him more. 

            “Why you little –”

            “For the record, I’m going to insist you not rut up against me in any future attempts at seduction,” said Hatano.  “At least not until you change your pants, because the thought of you grinding up against me like that is just disgusting.  Oh, and also for the record, I lied.”

            “What?”

            “My test scores lately have been just fine.  Which you’d know if you had any talent at information gathering.”

            Megami’s face was still flaming in humiliation.  He’d been checkmated, completely and utterly.  Manipulated by this pint sized terror.  And Megami couldn’t think of a single thing to say to make this any better, or anything he could do to regain the high ground.  So he did the only thing he could think to do.  He started trying to insult the little bastard.

            “You little . . . short . . . shrimpy . . . miniscule –”

            “Size-kink much?” Hatano asked smugly.  Then he laughed.  “Just admit it, Megami.  The real reason you hate Jitsui and me is because we make you question your sexuality.”

 

* * *

 

 

Notes: Hatano is such a little shit.  Making someone finish in his own pants, then making fun of the poor bastard for it.  


	4. Amari Romances Tazaki

            “Why don’t you sit down?” asked Amari as Tazaki approached.

            Tazaki smiled, a little self depreciatingly, gave a small shrug, and then let Amari pull out a chair for him.  Then Amari himself sat down beside him.

            “So, I know this is kind of awkward since we’re friends, but I think we can be professional with this,” said Amari.  “Which sounds wrong, because normally there’s nothing professional about seducing anyone.  Unless you’re in a certain trade.”

            “Which we are,” Tazaki reminded him.  “It’s a necessary tool for spies.  And I think you and I are mature enough that we can be professional.  Unlike . . .”

            Amari followed his gaze over to Miyoshi and Jitsui.  The two of them were sizing each other up, and smiling so prettily.  It made Amari want to run for cover.  And then there was the other grudge-match.  Hatano and Megami.  That was another catastrophe in the making. 

            “Yeah,” Amari agreed.  “Unlike them.”

            “We probably won’t be able to avoid a little bit of awkwardness, but we’re both grown men, not teenaged boys.  We can get past it.”

            “Yes,” agreed Amari.  “So . . . would you like to go first?”

            “Why don’t you?” offered Tazaki.  “I already have an idea of what I’ll try on you, and I think you’ll be thinking clearer before that.  I don’t want to sabotage you.”

            “Alright.  I haven’t actually thought about what to do to you, but if you think I’m going to be frazzled after you’re through with me, I’ll take your word for it,” said Amari. 

            “I don’t mean to be rude, but you should already have a plan,” said Tazaki.  “This is an important skill.  So please do your best to come up with a plan of attack quickly, just like you would have to if this were a mission.”

            He was right.  Amari knew it immediately.  If this was a real mission, and he had a target to seduce, with no intel, and a time limit, he would spend a few minutes watching the target and trying to glean every little bit of info about her, or him, that he could, then custom tailor his plan of attack, so to speak.

            Right now he actually had an advantage.  He knew Tazaki.  Quite well.  He knew Tazaki was gentle natured, and came across as too nice and genuine to be a spy.  He had a fondness for small creatures, pigeons especially.  He was easy to get along with.  Disliked bullying and unnecessary cruelness.  Felt guilty about his former friendships with Hourai and Megami, who didn’t seem to have gotten the memo that their friendship with Tazaki had run its course.  Tazaki couldn’t abide with how they were treating Jitsui and Hatano.  Tazaki wasn’t prideful.  He was confident, but not arrogant.  Knew he was good, overall, but didn’t let any nastiness show when he was bested.  And he wasn’t too proud to ask for help when he needed it.  He valued kindness.  Seemed to prefer women, from what Amari had observed in bars.  He didn’t seem to like it when women came onto him too strong, or hot and heavy.  He seemed more the type who enjoyed going slow.  Unfortunately, going slow now wasn’t an option.  Amari would have to find some middle ground to work with.  An idea formed in his mind, lightning fast.  Only a few seconds had passed since Tazaki stopped speaking.

            Amari learned over and rested his head against Tazaki’s shoulder, like he might if they were closer friends than they currently were, after a long day.  “I can’t think of anything,” he lied.

            “Can’t you?” asked Tazaki.  There was a smile in his voice.  Amari knew he was smiling, even though he couldn’t see him.

            “Give me a couple minutes,” said Amari.  “I just need a chance to think of something.”

            Tazaki chuckled softly.  A sign he’d already seen through Amari’s plan.  But despite the rules of the assignment about how he was supposed to resist, Tazaki didn’t decide to sabotage.  Tazaki seemed more of the type to let his partner go through with his plans for this exercise, and only resist by controlling his own reactions, unless his partner crossed any lines.  Like Hatano’s partner clearly just had.  Turning his head so that he could watch as Megami staggered after Hatano’s ridiculous kick gave Amari a very nice chance to nuzzle his head against Tazaki’s neck.

            “Trouble in paradise,” Tazaki commented, making Amari laugh.

            He tilted his head so that his mouth was closer to Tazaki’s ear, while still resting his chin on Tazaki’s shoulder.  “You’re funny.”

            Compliments.  A good thing.  Not that Tazaki was extremely susceptible to flattery.  But it couldn’t hurt.

            “I’m sure you tell that to all the men you try to seduce for classroom assignments,” said Tazaki, and Amari laughed again. 

            “Well, this would normally be the part where I’d ask you if you wanted to get out of here with me, and take you someplace nicer and more romantic to woo you.  But I don’t think this was meant to be a homework assignment,” said Amari, mouth close to Tazaki’s ear again.

            “Probably not,” Tazaki agreed.

            Amari took Tazaki’s chin in one hand, and turned Tazaki’s face toward him.  They were so close that he could have easily kissed him.  But he didn’t.  Not just yet.  Instead he just stared into Tazaki’s eyes for a long moment.  Tazaki stared back, smiling slightly.

            “You have an awful lot of colors in your eyes,” said Amari in surprise, realizing that he’d never actually spent that much time looking into Tazaki’s eyes this close.  Steely tones of blue were swirled with smoky greys.  And scattered around like stars were flecks of pure silver.  Amari had to blink several times and get ahold of himself, before he let his own eyes start darkening with desire.  Because Tazaki had really beautiful eyes.

            “You have nice eyes too,” Tazaki said genially.  His own eyes lit a bit with amusement.  And it might have been Amari’s imagination, but he thought that Tazaki’s pupils were slightly larger than they had been a few moments ago.  But only slightly.  Not nearly enough to classify his actions as a success.

            Which meant he got to continue.  Which Amari was fine with.  This was actually a little fun.

            “No, you don’t get it,” Amari said.  He still held Tazaki’s chin in his hand, but now raised his index finger to brush against Tazaki’s cheek.  Just once.  “Your eyes look like the colors in the waters around this town I used to live in, right before there’s a big storm.  The kind of storm that has everyone scurrying around to tie down boats and board up windows.  And before the storm strikes, there’s this stillness.  A sort of warm calm that settles over everything.  That’s when you make any last minute storm preparations before getting to shelter and latching up the shutters.”

            “Sounds scary,” said Tazaki.

            “It is for some people.  Especially the ones closest to the water, or anyone who worked on the sea.  But for those of us who didn’t . . . it meant a nice little reprieve from life,” said Amari.  “Especially if you had a significant other to weather out the storm with you.”

            “And what did that entail?  Weathering out the storm?” Tazaki asked.  Now Amari was sure it wasn’t his imagination.  Tazaki’s eyes were dilating, very slowly, but surely.  The talk of nature, and cozy things were getting to him.  So Amari gladly continued.

            “Lighting a fire in the fireplace,” Amari said.  “And making sure you had plenty of blankets down in front of it too.  Especially in autumn and the winter.  But even in spring and summer, storms off the ocean could bring with them a chill.  And there’s nothing like bundling up under a nice warm blanket when it’s cold, and the rain is beating on the windows.  The storms make it get dark fast.  Even in the middle of the day, you’d think it was night during those storms.”

            “You’d lose power?” Tazaki asked.

            “Yes.  That’s why a fire.  No electric heat.  Or lights.  Candles are always nice too.  They give the room a nice glow.  A bottle of wine is also nice.  Or something a little stronger,” said Amari, and he leaned in a bit closer to Tazaki.  “Especially if you have company.  You pour yourself and your special someone a glass.  You get cozy under a nice blanket.  And then –”

            Amari leaned the rest of the way in and kissed Tazaki, the way he’d kissed many a woman, in that exact scenario he’d described.  Passionately, but not so much possessively.  Like he loved the wildness in them, and every other force of nature, and would never think about bridling or breaking it.  Like he wanted to enjoy however much of it they would share with him, and reciprocate with his own wildness, and just be with them tonight, as the storm rattled the windows and shook the house around them.

            Tazaki kissed him back.  Probably mostly on instinct, which impressed Amari even more because it was a damn good kiss.  He kissed back just as passionately as Amari was kissing him.  He didn’t even need any encouragement to open his mouth, so Amari could get his tongue in.

            Amari wasn’t even thinking when he moved his hands to Tazaki’s waist and pulled him closer.  He actually meant to pull Tazaki all the way onto his lap, but was caught off guard by Tazaki’s weight.  Tazaki, being a man, was much heavier, with denser bones, not to mention a whole lot more muscles than the women Amari was used to.  That brought him back to reality a bit.  Made him remember what he was supposed to be doing.  Seducing Tazaki enough to make his pupils dilate.  But more than that would be . . . And he shouldn’t be getting lost in this either.  That was unprofessional.  And Tazaki was his friend.  They shouldn’t be . . .

            “Amari,” Tazaki spoke, breaking the kiss.  “I think . . . you’ve succeeded.”

            Amari opened his eyes and stared into Tazaki’s again.  Most of the steely blue and smoke were eclipsed by Tazaki’s very wide pupils.  But Amari still didn’t think he’d mind drowning in them. 

            But he did need to get himself under control.  And quickly. 

            Deep breath, he told himself.  And obeyed.  He released Tazaki and sat back further in his own chair, getting out of Tazaki’s personal space.  And watched as Tazaki did his best to get himself back under control too, tugging at his tie, and trying to sit up a little straighter and appear like he hadn’t just been making out with his friend and fellow student. 

            He looked cute doing that.  So cute, Amari couldn’t really help himself.  Before he could think better of it, he leaned forward again and pressed his lips to Tazaki’s once more.

            “Something to remember me by,” Amari said by way of explanation, after ending the kiss.  Then he flashed Tazaki his most charming smile.

            “Right,” said Tazaki.  Then he reached out and grabbed Amari’s tie.  But instead of using it to jerk Amari back to him, he loosened the knot and slipped it right off Amari, smiling gently.  “My turn.”

 

* * *

 

 

Notes: The strategy Amari finally decided on was transference.  First, get Tazaki thinking about how nice it is to be cozy and with someone you like when bad weather strikes, and it’s just you, and your significant other, nestled under a blanket in front of a fire.  Then kiss him and redirect those feelings toward that imaginary someone toward himself. 

 

And if in case you’re wondering, calling the teacher over to confirm their success isn’t strictly necessary.  Unless they have reason to believe their mark will deny being aroused.  Then they call Sensei Jigaro over to ensure they get their passing grade.  And, you know, add to their mark’s humiliation. :P

 


	5. Fukumoto Entices Kaminaga

            “You’ve got your work cut out for you, Fukumoto,” Kaminaga warned Fukumoto right as they went into the exercise.  “I like women.”

            Fukumoto kept his usual poker face in place, though what he would really have liked to do was smirk.  But that would sting Kaminaga’s ego.  Not that Kaminaga had a huge ego, like some people Fukumoto was looking forward to seeing get eliminated.  But it was always easier to coax people into doing what you wanted them to when they were completely amiable toward you.  Telling someone they were wrong put them on their guard and filled them with a need to prove themselves right.  It would be self sabotaging for him to point out that yes, Kaminaga probably did prefer women, but that didn’t mean that he wouldn’t react to a man if the situation was right.

            “Please take good care of me,” he said instead, as though they were meeting for the first time, and he’d just introduced himself.

            That got a laugh out of Kaminaga.  Which meant Fukumoto was still successfully inside the other man’s guard.  Good.

            “Maybe I should be asking the same thing of you,” said Kaminaga.  “Correct me if I’m wrong, but I think you’re the one with more experience in this particular area.”

            “I won’t deny that.  Not to you,” said Fukumoto solemnly, making eye contact with Kaminaga and holding his gaze.  His word choice was very deliberate.  And he knew that Kaminaga had mentally followed it a few steps further.  And realized that there were some people Fukumoto would deny this to.  Being homosexual in Japan during this day and age was hardly unheard of, by any means, but it was something that was looked down on by many people.  Because of that, those with a preference toward their own gender tended to keep their preferences hidden.  But Fukumoto had honored Kaminaga with the truth.

            Kaminaga didn’t leer at him, or frown, or look disgusted.  The look of his suspicions being confirmed did flash across his face briefly, but after that he looked thoughtful.  “I guess I’m in good hands then.  You go first and show me how this is done.”

            Fukumoto nodded.  Then he reached forward carefully and started removing Kaminaga’s jacket for him.  He did his best to keep his motions casual, and not be blatantly seductive.  That, he judged, was the best way to keep Kaminaga in the right frame of mind right now.  In different context, he could have been just a friend helping another friend out of a wet jacket after getting caught in a sudden downpour.  Or just a friend helping another friend get his jacket off after a long day of work, when his muscles were tired and achy.  Kaminaga’s mind would be filling in the blanks on its own, which would probably put him much more at ease than if Fukumoto shoved him down on the desk and proceeded to rip his clothes off.   

            And it was amazing how many romances started off like this.  Two friends just being there for each other.  Helping each other when they needed it.  Or even when they didn’t, but it was just nice to have help anyway.  Then, over time, casual touches started to linger a bit longer than necessary.  Smiles were warmer when aimed at each other.  It was the kind of thing that happened slowly, then all at once.  And while that wasn’t exactly what was happening now, with Kaminaga, Fukumoto had the feeling it was going to happen with more than one pair of friends who made the final cut for D-Agency spies.  But that was something to think about at another time.

            He was lucky to have gotten paired with Kaminaga.  If it was Odagiri . . . that might have been rushing something that needed more time.  If it was something that would ever happen at all.  If he’d gotten paired with Hatano or Jitsui . . . that just would have made Fukumoto feel so dirty, trying to seduce a minor.  And Miyoshi was so in love with himself, he would have been a hard nut to crack.  Not to mention he definitely would have had his guard up higher than Kaminaga, who clearly didn’t plan to resist anymore than his natural inclination to resist a man’s advances told him he should.  And if he’d gotten Hourai or Megami, he would have had the problem of them being overly resistant added to the problem of loathing them, which would have made it harder for him to bring his A-game.  Kaminaga, Amari, and Tazaki all ranked highest in his preferences for who to do this exercise with.  So Fukumoto had really lucked out. 

            “Are you more comfortable without your tie?” asked Fukumoto, deciding to get the illusion of permission to remove it.  Naturally, he knew what the answer to that question was.  Everyone was more comfortable without their tie. 

            “Yes,” Kaminaga answered, and then, and only then, did Fukumoto put his hands up to Kaminaga’s neck.  He worked slowly, touching his neck a little more than necessary, since having someone’s hands at your throat was sort of a trust thing.  He kept those touches light and gentle, and he thought that he could feel in them Kaminaga coming around, opening up to the idea of being touched a bit more intimately by another man.

            He made the decision to take the next step off instinct rather than calculation.  He felt like Kaminaga was open to it, and so he went for it, cupping Kaminaga’s face in his hands, tilting his head back, and then pressing their lips together in a passionate kiss. 

            But it might have been too soon.  Because Kaminaga didn’t kiss back.  Or maybe Kaminaga was taking the part of the assignment where they were supposed to resist a bit more seriously than Fukumoto thought, and he’d misjudged that.  Whatever the reason, Fukumoto knew that he needed to up his game.

            So he slid down a bit, letting his lips brush against Kaminaga’s jawline, down to his throat, and started kissing there, while his hands slid down Kaminaga’s chest and began unbuttoning his waistcoat.  Kaminaga’s body remained relaxed in his arms, which was good.  He wasn’t tensing up, wasn’t actively resisting.  He was giving Fukumoto a fighting chance.  But Fukumoto decided he was done with being subtle and playing nice.

            As soon as Kaminaga’s waistcoat was open, Fukumoto slid even lower down his body, his lips brushing against the linen of Kaminaga’s shirt until he found the spot he was looking for, on the left side of Kaminaga’s chest.  Major clothes had to remain on, Jigaro-sensei had said.  And he’d included shirts in that.  But that was fine.  The shirt staying on perhaps worked even better for what Fukumoto had planned, though had it been a truly intimate situation, Fukumoto would have preferred to peel it off.

            But now, he found Kaminaga’s nipple beneath the linen, and took it into his mouth, sucking on it through the shirt.  While the shirt may have denied direct contact, its texture forced Kaminaga to feel more than he would have if his bare nipple had been in Fukumoto’s mouth.  Immediately, he gasped, and Fukumoto knew right there that he’d won.  Kaminaga’s hand going to his hair and absently clenching was just icing on the cake.  But Fukumoto thought it better not to leave the job half finished.

            He sucked harder, worrying against the bud with his teeth, just enough to make Kaminaga jump.  The hand in Fukumoto’s hair tightened and Kaminaga’s hips pushed forward, just a bit.  He was clearly struggling to keep himself under control.  Fukumoto didn’t make it easy for him.

            What Kaminaga clearly had not known, until he experienced it himself, was that a man’s nipples were just as sensitive as any woman’s.  Sucking on them, as Fukumoto was doing now, sent pleasure racing through his body, and Kaminaga’s body didn’t care if it was a man or woman doing this to him.  He just wanted more.

            Unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately for the sake of their friendship, since things would have gotten awkward had Fukumoto continued, Kaminaga kept enough sense of self to reign things in.

            “Fuku . . . moto . . .” Kaminaga gasped then exhaled quickly, trying to resist despite his body’s cravings.  “That’s . . . enough . . .”

            Fukumoto immediately, though not unregretfully, stopped.

            Kaminaga was still talking.  “You . . . succeeded . . . I think.”  Then he gave a breathless laugh to indicate that the last two words had been added on as a humorous understatement.

            Fukumoto studied Kaminaga’s eyes, inspecting his handiwork.  Yes.  He’d succeeded alright.  Kaminaga’s eyes were dark with desire, his pupils wide and dilated.  Had they not been in a classroom setting, Fukumoto was fairly certain that Kaminaga would have been more than willing to keep going, preference for women or no.  And Fukumoto couldn’t say he’d be adverse to continuing either.  Kaminaga wasn’t strictly his type, but he seemed like the kind of guy who would be fun for a night . . . if they weren’t friends.  Since that would just make things weird going forward.

            So Fukumoto calmly stepped back, his usual poker face perfectly in place as he gave Kaminaga space to compose himself.  He felt inordinately pleased by how long it took Kaminaga to pull himself back together.

            “You’re good,” Kaminaga said at last.  “Very good.  I’ll give you that.”

            “Good enough to make you forget I’m not a woman?  Or good enough to make you forget you prefer women?” asked Fukumoto.

            Kaminaga considered the question, but his mind was still a bit frazzled.  “Both?” he decided finally.  “Both is good.”

            And this time Fukumoto was unable to hide a smirk.


	6. Odagiri Cheats On Hourai

            To say that Odagiri was not pleased with his partner was an understatement.  Out of everyone he could have gotten, Hourai was the very worst.

            There was a lot Odagiri didn’t like about the other man.  Most of it revolved around the way he treated other people.  Make no mistake, Odagiri didn’t get along with everyone by any means.  Not even everyone who was still left in spy training.  But he didn’t try to tear them down.  And he sure as hell didn’t take cheap shots at them during hand to hand combat training.  Odagiri wouldn’t be sad to see Hourai go.  Megami either.  Speaking of which . . .

            Odagiri looked around, to see who Megami had ended up with.  Oh.  Hatano.  Poor kid.  Or maybe not.  Odagiri saw that Hatano was already using his wiles on Megami.  Falling into a role.  Showing Megami what he wanted to see.  It made Odagiri want to shake his head.  And made him a little jealous.  If only he had it so easy.

            From the onset of their sex ed lessons, it had been obvious that Hourai flat out rejected the idea that almost everyone was, to some degree, attracted to their own gender.  Megami had too, but even the casual observer could tell that he was lying, by the way his eyes lingered overlong on certain other trainees, especially in the showers.  Mainly on Hourai, but also on Miyoshi and Jitsui.  Nearly everyone looked a little longer at Miyoshi and Jitsui than they should have, Odagiri included, even though he himself had little interest in pursuing a relationship with a man.  Megami could be manipulated into a state of arousal, Odagiri was sure.  But Hourai . . . not now.  Not like this.  If he wasn’t on his guard against it, then yes, Odagiri was sure he could be.  But Hourai being made aware that another man was actively trying to get him turned on would make it impossible, considering how dead set he was against that happening.  It would be like trying to steal someone’s watch off their wrist while they were guarding against just that happening. 

            So . . . what was Odagiri supposed to do?

            He didn’t want to fail this assignment.  Even though he didn’t think it would be scaled too badly against him, considering what he had to work with.  But he felt like, as a future D-Agency spy, he _should_ be able to get a passing grade on this.  So how?

            Odagiri thought about it long and hard, as Hourai half-heartedly tried to seduce him.  Hourai’s tactics were . . . interesting.  In a laughable kind of way.  Hourai didn’t touch him at all.  No kisses, or caresses.  He didn’t even invade Odagiri’s personal space.  He just kind of . . . talked dirty?  Kind of.  Not especially so.  His comments were the kind you’d use on a prostitute, Odagiri imagined.  Anyone else would have found them too distasteful to be turned on by them, except maybe a masochist, and even then, that masochist would have had to have weird taste and really low self esteem. 

            Finally, Hourai threw in the towel.

            “I give up,” he said, and gave a conspiratorial laugh, like he and Odagiri were friends.  “Neither of us are cut out for this exercise, am I right?”

            Well, Odagiri had no intention of throwing away a grade.  But telling Hourai he was wrong wasn’t a good way to get in his good graces.  So Odagiri just gave a slight smile and nodded.  And inwardly cursed himself for not coming up with a strategy for this yet.

            If he wanted to be a spy, he needed to get results, no matter what the task. 

            Results . . . maybe that was what Odagiri needed to strive for rather than genuinely completing the task.  Yes . . . one thing that had become apparent early on in their training was that playing fair and doing things by the book wasn’t really necessary, or even actually encouraged.  Their chosen occupation revolved around deception.  If they could fake or forge the results they needed, they were as good as gold.

            And faking the results that Odagiri needed now . . . that was almost laughably simple.

            “Well, this probably won’t work, but . . . in the name of getting a passing grade, I have to at least try something,” Odagiri said, with a slightly derisive laugh.  He was pleased that Hourai laughed along.  “So . . . just try something out for me, okay?  It doesn’t involve me touching you, or getting close, or anything . . . you know, gross.  But . . . well, it’s a relaxation, visualization technique.  So just, close your eyes, and listen to my voice.”

            Hourai gave another good humored laugh and then closed his eyes.  And thus missed Odagiri’s smirk.

            “Picture yourself somewhere romantic,” said Odagiri.  “Um . . . like . . . maybe . . . in a Western country.  In Europe.  In one of those old cities, made of stone, with so many houses and buildings that they cover entire hills.  Buildings made of pale stone, with orange clay roof tiles.”

            Odagiri spoke just slowly enough not to be suspicious, and kept his gaze focused on Hourai’s eyes, making sure they stayed closed.

            “Picture yourself on a terrace, overlooking this city.  You’re . . . you’re seated at a table.  Not a big table, a small one, meant for just two people.  It’s covered with a white table cloth.  And there’s food and drink in front of you.  Your cup is made of fine crystal, and filled with wine so red, it’s like an elixir of rubies.  And on your fine china plate is . . . something fancy.  Like . . . like roasted lamb.  Seasoned with herbs and spices, all juicy and warm . . .  And the silverware is made of real silver, wrought by a master silver smith . . .”

            Odagiri droned on for awhile, putting in as many unimportant details into his spiel as he could, and avoiding talking about who was sitting at the table with Hourai in this visualization exercise, and specifically what gender they were, for a good three minutes. He knew what would happen when he finally did, and he needed to time it right.  Jigaro Sensei was making his rounds of the classroom.  Observing.  And monitoring.  He spent a good deal of time on the opposite side of the room, Odagiri had noted.  Keeping a close eye on Megami and Hatano who were not getting along well, surprise, surprise. 

            But finally, Jigaro Sensei wandered over to Odagiri’s side of the room.  And Odagiri put the next step of his plan into play.

            “And sitting on the other side of this spread of food and fine dining ware, is a handsome young man . . . with dark hair and eyes.  And he is staring at you, with a smoldering expression . . . and you feel a strong sense of attraction toward him –”

            “I’m going to stop you right there,” said Hourai, opening his eyes, right on cue.  “There is no way I’d feel a sense of attraction toward a man, strong or otherwise.”

            “Jigaro Sensei, please check my work,” Odagiri requested quickly.

            And immediately their instructor swooped in, seized Hourai’s chin, and jerked Houria’s face toward him so he could peer into his eyes better. 

            “Yes . . .” Jigaro Sensei said, holding Hourai in place, even though the trainee was struggling.  “Pedo-kun’s eyes are dilated.  You have aroused him.  Surprising, since you are older than he seems to prefer, but there you have it.  Passing grade to you, Legal-Age-kun.  You earned it.”

            “Thank you, Jigaro Sensei,” Odagiri said solemnly.

            “What?  Wait, no!” spluttered Hourai.  “I’m not – I’m not aroused!  I don’t like men!”

            But Jigaro Sensei wasn’t listening.  Action on the opposite side of the room had stolen his attention, and he started storming back over there, paying Hourai’s protests no mind at all.

            “Glasses-kun!  If Demon-kun has to kick you in the face to warn you off one more time, you will have to do a seductive, stripping dance in front of the whole class as punishment!”

            Hourai gaped after him, a furious look on his face.  And Odagiri knew he had mere moments before that fury was turned on him.  And even though he personally loathed Hourai, his life would be much easier if Hourai wasn’t out to get him.

            “I apologize,” Odagiri said, before Hourai could speak again.  “I cheated.”

            “What?” Hourai asked, narrowing his eyes at Odagiri.

            “Dilation of the pupils isn’t only caused by arousal,” Odagiri reminded him.  “It is much more commonly caused by your eyes adjusting to darkness.”

            “What?” asked Hourai again, still not catching on, and looking even more annoyed now.

            “I made you close your eyes, knowing that they would dilate on their own, that way,” explained Odagiri.  “Since you don’t like men, I had to cheat.  It was the only way to get a passing grade.”

            Those last remarks seemed to mollify Hourai.  As Odagiri had intended them to.  Lying was usually the fastest way to appease people Odagiri had found. 

            Because in a different setting, without Hourai’s guard all the way up against being seduced by a man, Odagiri was confident he could have found a way to get inside his guard, and get him aroused.  And that was the difference between him and Hourai.  Hourai had a genuine chance, but had passed it up.  Odagiri had never had a chance, but succeeded anyway.

            Just like he succeeded in hiding his smirk, as a gloating thought ran through his mind.  _I think I’m pretty good at this spy thing._


End file.
